


The Inheritance

by pulpriter



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 15:44:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4143357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pulpriter/pseuds/pulpriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phryne's mind was whirring</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Inheritance

**Author's Note:**

> Series 3 spoiler!
> 
> A mere dribble of a drabble. Just something I had to get out of my system. Enjoy, and as always, tell me what you think.  
> I don't own any of these characters, I just love them.

Phryne Fisher lay in bed, tossing, punching her pillow. She couldn’t sleep. Her mind whirred and churned and wouldn’t let up. 

Moonlight streamed through her bedroom window. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t rest. Recent events played over and over in her mind. 

It was so unexpected, she hadn’t been sure what to make of it. From the initial challenge, her first instinct had told her to defend herself. She made sure she didn’t give in easily. She questioned, she provoked. None of it seemed to help. 

She had warned him off, in every way she could think of. She listed the others, name-dropping shamelessly to be sure he knew where he stood. It might have worked in the past, but no more. Too many times he had faced the evidence of her indiscriminate alliances, and still had remained. He had an answer to every taunt. He was unshakable, no matter what she tried. 

He walked on, never looking back, confident, unperturbed. 

Is this what they had come to? Was this the only way through? Phryne was afraid it might require some surrender on her part; but it didn’t feel like surrender. It didn’t feel like anything was being lost. It felt like something new was being forged. It made her feel a little breathless. 

She played her trump card: what had happened to her mother. But he had turned it around on her—to her—until it became a lovely compliment, and more…

Despite her best efforts to deter him, he had shrugged it all off, and had taken her hand in his, and begun to waltz. He was more than a match for all those rivals she had told him about. As always. As she had always known he would be.

Phryne rolled over in bed once more, replaying every moment. Phryne’s mother had lost all reason when she was waltzed. It seemed that it was a family trait.


End file.
